


Drabble Collection 02

by triste



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Genderswap, M/M, Mpreg, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why are you looking at me like that?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble Collection 02

**[Aomine/fem!Kuroko, first time worries]**

The idea of sex with the person he loves, Aomine thinks, should fill him with happiness and horniness, not with an endless amount of worries, but that’s how it goes when he and Kuroko finally get round to talking about what their first time is going to be like, and when it’s going to happen.

What if it ends up being terrible? That’s Aomine’s number one concern, and he’s not sure his fragile male ego would be able to recover from the killer blow of premature ejaculation (he’s been imagining sex with Kuroko for a very long time now, and although he has confidence in his staying power, it’s only from what he’s done with his own hand, so he has no idea what it’d be like with a partner). 

What if he can’t even make Kuroko come? He’s done extensive research on this subject, and he’s read that some girls have difficulty reaching orgasm the first time they have sex, that some of them don’t even manage to have one at all and that some of them don’t even enjoy it, which Aomine finds difficult to understand because, well, it’s *sex*, it’s supposed to be enjoyable, or else people wouldn’t bother doing it. What if he hurts Kuroko? She’s a midget, as Aomine reminds her on a regular basis, even by female standards, and although he’s pretty well endowed, he’s not like monster cock or anything, but she’s so tiny and delicate that he’s kind of scared he’ll damage her without meaning to.

Whenever he mentions his uneasiness, Kuroko simply sighs and says, “If my vagina was designed to get a baby down it, I’m sure I can manage to get your penis up it.”

And that’s another thing that stresses Aomine out, because what if he gets her pregnant? 

“Tetsu,” he says, “you’re on the pill, right?”

“Yes, Aomine-kun,” she replies, patient as ever, even though she’s already given him the same answer to the same question at least twelve times already.

He’s stockpiled condoms anyway, just to make extra sure, but while Aomine is actually okay with the idea of being a father, he’d prefer to wait until after they’ve had a lot of sex first and have become really awesome at it. 

More importantly, Kuroko would kill him if he knocked her up before she could go to college and get her teaching degree.

“Why are you so anxious about this?” Kuroko asks. “Are you starting to have second thoughts?”

“Of course not!” Aomine shrugs, helpless. “I just... you know.”

“No,” says Kuroko, “I don’t, which is why I’m trying to find out why you keep dragging your feet so much. Please don’t tell me you’re planning to wait until we’re married.”

She can’t honestly be thinking that, because marriage is like a million years away still, or at least something that won’t be happening before they’ve graduated from university (and since Aomine isn’t doing so great in studying for his entrance exams, it’ll be a miracle if he even manages to get a place at one), and there’s no way he’ll be able to hang on that long.

It’s complicated, he supposes, with all the stuff they went through in middle school, and how he’s still half convinced she might leave him again, because he knows she can do better, that she’d probably be happier with someone else, maybe Kagami, or hell, even Kise (who’s an incurable idiot, but at least he’d treat her right).

A small weight settling into his lap snaps him out of his brooding, and Kuroko frowns in disapproval. “You’re making that face,” she tells him, “the one that says ‘I’m not good enough for you’.”

She really can read him far too well, or maybe Aomine is just being way too obvious, because she kisses him on the forehead, her expression smoothing into a smile, small and secretive, and Aomine falls in love all over again.

She takes his hand, brings it to her lips so she can kiss his fingertips, and it’s good, so Aomine closes his eyes, but then he gets the shock of his life when she guides them under her skirt, pressing them against the front of her panties.

“What the-”

“Shh,” is the only thing Kuroko says, shutting him up with a kiss, and it’s probably good that she does, because that’s when she moves his fingers again until he feels warmth and wetness.

“Fuck,” he moans, and she parts her thighs a little, encouraging him to slide them inside.

“Yes,” she whispers, mouth nudging his. “That’s the idea.”

Aomine is sort of distracted, so he doesn’t immediately notice when she reaches for the buckle of his belt, but when he does, he says, “Wait, wait, we need condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” says Kuroko, “remember?”

“But,” says Aomine (it feels so weird to be the sensible one in their relationship instead of Kuroko), and that’s about as much as he can manage when Kuroko’s hand meets his dick.

“Shh,” she says, again. “No more thinking.”

And Aomine, for once, shows that he’s good at doing what he’s told.

~~

**[KiKuro, mpreg and lingerie]**

The trouble with Ryouta is that he never does things by halves. It’s all or nothing with him. He doesn’t simply like something, he gets obsessed with it, and when he’s obsessed, it can last for a very long time, as Tetsuya knows by experience. He’s always had a leg fetish (well, at least a fetish for Tetsuya’s legs, since he’s never commented on anyone else’s before), but now he’s developed a pregnancy fetish, and it drives him crazy to see Tetsuya’s exposed stomach.

“Why do you have to cover up with clothes?” he complains.

“To protect the regular people from unnecessary trauma,” Tetsuya replies dryly.

It says a lot about Ryouta that he doesn’t protest, never mind deny, being called abnormal.

Tetsuya tries not to spoil him, but every once in a while he relents, usually against his better judgement, like now, when Ryouta presents him with a bag. It’s smaller than the ones he’s brought home from his latest splurging session, Tetsuya notes, so it can’t possibly contain the usual baby clothes (of which he’s been amassing a worrying amount).

Ryouta’s expression, when Tetsuya opens the bag, is hopeful, but Tetsuya is unimpressed upon seeing the contents.

It’s not the first time Ryouta has given him lingerie, because he’s got strange tastes, even for a pervert, but it has been a while since he last purchased any, leading Tetsuya to think (or rather, hope) that it was just a temporary phase he was going through.

Not so apparently, or else he wouldn’t be standing here right now, waiting expectantly for Tetsuya to go away and change.

“You can’t possibly expect me to wear this,” Tetsuya says flatly.

“Why not?” Ryouta asks.

There are at least twenty reasons that Tetsuya could give, the main one being that it’s women’s underwear, and he’s a man (a pregnant one, but he’s still male, nonetheless), not that this has ever stopped Ryouta from wanting to see him dressed up in things that are far too frilly and lacy for Tetsuya’s tastes. 

“Because I’m too fat,” is what Tetsuya finally comes out with.

“You’re not fat,” Ryouta argues heatedly. “You’re perfect.”

Tetsuya tries again. “It’s too much of a pain.”

“But they’re so easy to put on!” Which is true enough when Ryouta holds up the panties, stockings and slip as proof. “Please?” He gives Tetsuya the patented puppy eyes, the ones that have never yet managed to work on him, but that Ryouta persists on trying to melt his heart (and stubbornness) with anyway.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Really great sex.”

And Tetsuya can’t refuse that, although it still makes him feel as if he’s giving in too easily. “Alright,” he concedes. “But no pictures.”

There’s no way he wants anyone but Ryouta seeing him dressed in something completely ridiculous. He doesn’t even understand what Ryouta finds appealing about it, but whatever it is, it leaves Ryouta looking predatory, ravenous even, when Tetsuya returns.

The only thing he’s had to complain about since they found out they were expecting a child, is that the bigger Tetsuya’s belly gets, the more it reduces the number of positions they can have sex in. At five months along, Tetsuya isn’t quite at the stage where he feels like a beached whale, but he does look very obviously pregnant, and with his stomach starting to get in the way, they can only do it now with him on top, on all fours or lying on his side while Ryouta takes him from behind.

He misses the days when they could have sex in any position, misses having Ryouta between his legs. Just remembering them is enough to get Tetsuya hard, but the way Ryouta is staring at him doesn’t hurt, the way his breath quickens when Kuroko reaches down to touch himself, the way he licks his lips.

“God, you’re so hot,” he breathes, and it almost makes Tetsuya believe him, makes him forget to be embarrassed about what he’s wearing. 

Tetsuya wants Ryouta’s hands on his cock, not on his belly, but it’s where Ryouta always starts, loving it, worshipping it, making Tetsuya feel like the most precious person alive, making him go weak at the knees to receive so much tenderness, so much devotion. 

But Ryouta doesn’t keep him waiting, gently removing Tetsuya’s fingers and replacing them with his own, stroking the bulge, rubbing it, and he seems to know it’s not enough, so he gets to his knees, placing an open-mouthed kiss to Tetsuya’s cock through the smooth fabric of the panties, sucking until he’s left behind a damp spot.

Tetsuya moans softly, running his fingers through Ryouta’s hair in encouragement, and Ryouta tugs the panties down just enough to let Tetsuya’s cock slip free, the tip of it bumping his stomach. It’s sticky with pre-come, which Ryouta smears over the swell of Tetsuya’s belly, licking it clean. He wants that tongue to move lower, but then again, he also really wants to be fucked.

“I love it when you’re like this,” Ryouta says, whispering the words against Tetsuya’s belly like a secret, “when you’re so worked up, when you want me so bad. Do you even *know* what it does to me?”

Tetsuya thinks he has a pretty good idea, which is why he pulls Ryouta up for a kiss, whimpering into his mouth and riding his thigh. He’s still wearing the panties, cramped around his balls, but the friction they give when he grinds against Ryouta is incredible, and it makes him moan louder, makes him rock his hips harder.

“Only you,” he gasps, breathless, when they break apart, mouthing at Ryouta’s neck, tracing a long, slick line along his collarbones with his tongue. “Only you could make me do this.”

Ryouta’s nostrils flare, and he yanks Tetsuya in for another kiss, hands rough and possessive on Tetsuya’s ass. “How do you want me?” he asks, as he guides them over to the bed.

“On your back,” Tetsuya says, and Ryouta nods, getting out the lubricant.

He doesn’t need much preparation these days, he’s always so willing and eager, and Ryouta’s first two fingers slip in easily, coaxing him open, getting him ready. The panties come off, but everything else stays on, not that Tetsuya is about to complain at this point when he moves into position, lowering onto Ryouta’s cock until he’s seated all the way inside.

But even this position is beginning to get awkward now, and they probably won’t be able to use it much longer, so Tetsuya savours it while he still can, bracing his palms against Ryouta’s stomach (flat and toned, the way Tetsuya’s used to be at one time, which leaves him feeling slightly envious) and lifting up, just a little, before sliding back down.

He’s the one who controls their rhythm, starting off slow and building the pace, quickening it until it’s hard and frantic, practically bouncing in Ryouta’s lap from the force of his thrusts, loving the way it feels to have Ryouta so deep inside him, loving how it feels to be fucked.

It’s compensation, in a way, he thinks afterwards, when Ryouta eases him down, stroking him, soothing him, because the pregnancy hormones seem to have given Tetsuya heightened sensitivity, along with longer, more intense orgasms. It’s also helped to increase his stamina (if Akashi had known this back in middle school, he probably would have ordered Ryouta to get him pregnant sooner), which is why it takes Tetsuya far less time to recover than Ryouta, and leaves him hungry for more.

“Are you ready for round two yet?” 

Ryouta groans, but not in pleasure. “Why can’t I be a teenager again?” 

“Come on, Ryouta,” murmurs Tetsuya, wiggling his ass against him invitingly. “Try to keep up.”

“Right now,” Ryouta says, staring balefully at his cock as though willing it to harden, “I’m still trying to *get* it up.”

Tetsuya’s smile is wicked and full of promise. “I think I could help with that.”

~~

**[KiKuro, daddy gets bullied]**

One of Ryouta’s favourite things to do (and he has many of them when it comes to the man he married) is to lie on his side, head on Tetsuya’s belly, and talk to their unborn child. 

“He can’t answer, you know,” Tetsuya says absently, attention focused more on the book in his hands than on what Ryouta is doing.

“That doesn’t matter,” states Ryouta, rubbing the swell of Tetsuya’s stomach through his tee shirt. “I’m just getting him used to hearing my voice.”

And he knows the baby can hear him, because he’s read about it, how they recognise and react to different sounds. Tetsuya thinks it’s nonsense, that it all comes down to genes, and that playing classical music to their baby isn’t going to make him any smarter, but Ryouta doesn’t care. 

In any case, whether it affects the baby’s development or not, there can’t be anything wrong, Ryouta thinks, with singing to him, so that’s what he does, crooning the songs he likes best against Tetsuya’s bump, and Tetsuya sighs, turning a page, but he never tells Ryouta to stop.

It’s only when Ryouta returns to having a one-sided conversation with their child that he loses his place in the story, but Ryouta fails to notice at first, too busy putting on the same sickly-sweet voice all parents use when they’re talking to miniature versions of themselves. 

“Daddy is going to be so happy when he finally gets to meet you,” he says, nuzzling Tetsuya’s belly. “Yes, he is, precious. He’s going to kiss you, and snuggle you, and take thousands of photos. I bet you can’t wait, right? You want to come out soon, don’t you, little one?” And then, slipping back into his normal speaking voice, he adds, upon seeing Tetsuya’s expression, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because,” says Tetsuya, unimpressed, “you’re being ridiculous. If you’re going to talk to the baby, at least do it properly.”

“What’s wrong with the way I’m talking now?”

“It makes you sound like an idiot.”

Ryouta hides his face behind Tetsuya’s stomach, pretending to cry. “Your other daddy is being all tsun-tsun to me. Uncle Midorimacchi is having a bad influence on him.”

Sighing at Ryouta’s melodrama, Tetsuya gives his belly a gentle pat. “Please forgive your father. He can’t help being so simple. The grades he got in junior high are proof. I’ve saved them along with the rest of his school reports for you to read and mock when you’re older.”

“Daddy is being slandered,” Ryouta sniffles. 

“Daddy also only got 12 marks out of 100 in one of his English tests.”

“Kagamicchi got even less than that! And he was in high school! And he’d lived in America for however many years!”

“But Kagami-kun can cook delicious meals, so I’ll forgive him for his poor linguistic skills.”

Burying his face against Tetsuya’s belly, Ryouta fakes a sob. “You need to hurry up and get born soon, baby, because daddy needs someone to protect him from being bullied.”

“It’s not bullying,” says Tetsuya, giving in at last and stroking Ryouta’s hair as an apology. “It’s how I show my affection. But to be honest,” he adds, face softening into a smile as he places a palm to his belly, “I’m so glad your daddy has helped bring you into our world.”

Ryouta smiles back at him, eyes warm with love and affection, as he settles his hand on top of Tetsuya’s, whispering, “Your other daddy is best when he’s showing his dere side, and I just know you’ll agree with me when you finally get to meet him, but I won’t let you marry him when you grow up, because he’s all mine.”

“Please don’t get jealous of your own son before he’s even born.”


End file.
